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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591585">a sight to behold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frolickingangels/pseuds/frolickingangels'>frolickingangels</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Assassin's Creed - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Character Thoughts, F/M, Kassandra sleeps and Brasidas has Feelings(TM), soft things</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:08:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frolickingangels/pseuds/frolickingangels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brasidas felt like a fool.</p><p>A silly, old fool.</p><p>Creeping about his own home with silent feet just to get a glimpse of her under the first of Helios’ rays.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brasidas/Kassandra (Assassin's Creed)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a sight to behold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>I woke and crept like a cat on silent feet about my own house -- to look at you while you were sleeping, your hair splayed on the pillow, your eyes closed, your body safe and solitary, and my doors shut for your safety and for your comfort. I did this thinking I was intruding, yet wanting to see the most beautiful thing that has ever been in my house. (<a href="https://frolickingangels.tumblr.com/post/624987707354103808/6thlovelanguage-i-am-once-again-promoting-my-gay">Mary Oliver, I woke</a>)</i>
</p><p>EDIT: Fanart creator j3nnt on tumblr made <a href="https://j3nnt.tumblr.com/post/625493334245392384/a-sight-to-behold-a-scene-from-frolickingangels">super cute, super soft art!</a> Check it out! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brasidas felt like a fool.<br/>
<br/>
A silly, old fool.<br/>
<br/>
Creeping about his own home with silent feet just to get a glimpse of her under the first of Helios’ rays.<br/>
<br/>
He woke with a unique sense of clarity that morning. One uncaused by the sounds of enemy feet approaching nor the urgent call of his soldiers. Rather, he’d dreamt of her and soon remembered her very presence, not just in Sparta, but under his roof. In his own <em> house </em> . In the room right next to his. Merely a few steps away.<br/>
<br/>
He’d risen and dressed himself decently, taking deep breaths as he fastened the belt of his <em> chiton </em> all the way to the common room, trying to mentally talk himself out of this crazy idea and shove it in the darkest recesses of his mind.<br/>
<br/>
Alas, he’d failed. <br/>
<br/>
His feet took a different turn on their own as if Brasidas were pulled by a string woven to lead him straight to his demise. Did The Fates enjoy weaving his destiny this way? If so, they were sure to be cackling at his futile attempts of holding onto the last threads of his sanity right now.<br/>
<br/>
Brasidas stopped at the open doorway, right where he could see Kassandra on the soft, humble mattress with her hair splayed loose and carefree on the pillows. She was on her back, blanket kicked off sometime in the heat of the summer night, limbs spread wide and uncaring to leave little space on the bed for anything else. Her chest rose and fell in the gentle waves of sleep. Light snores escaped her. Free, unconcerned, and unrestrained.<br/>
<br/>
<em> Vulnerable.<br/>
<br/>
</em> Brasidas knew she could protect herself better than any other men. One careless misstep from him and she’d grab that favored legendary spear beside her in a heartbeat. He’d known it since that burning warehouse in Korinth. Whether he’d made his appearance or not, Brasidas knew that she would have crushed the Monger’s men as if she were Artemis crushing ants beneath her buskins. <br/>
<br/>
But he’d helped her anyway. A mortal lending a goddess a hand she likely would have never needed. And what a glorious, fiery dance they’d shared. As if he’d finally found a soldier carved from the beating of his own heart, there to slay those who stood before them in perfect unison, to share all of life’s woes and victories together.<br/>
<br/>
The pride he’d felt then wasn’t unlike the one surging in his chest now, growing stronger and surer by the moment.<br/>
<br/>
Brasidas would protect her during her most vulnerable. He’d offered his own house and locked doors for her own safety and a few hours of respite. He would gladly do so again. For as long as she needed it, for as long as she let him.<br/>
<br/>
If he were a braver, less conflicted Spartiate, he would go as far as to thinking he’d lay his life down for her. A sentiment that should be reserved only for Sparta, not for a god-like <em> misthios </em> long ago sentenced to die by the same state, as expected of a man in his position.<br/>
<br/>
Kassandra made it clear she didn’t appreciate being equated to gods, confessed it in between huge gulps of wine and a good distance away from the <em> heterae</em>’s party they were made to attend in Korinth. Coupled with her stories of daring adventures and her loud, unbridled laughter, Kassandra had made it so easy for Brasidas to forget about the war raging all over Hellas.<br/>
<br/>
A loud hitch in her breathing had Brasidas coming back to the present.<br/>
<br/>
Kassandra moved and groaned in her sleep. She turned to her side, facing right where Brasidas stood.<br/>
<br/>
Bleary eyes blinked.<br/>
<br/>
And looked right at Brasidas, meeting his gaze.<br/>
<br/>
Panic -- one he hadn’t experienced in a long while -- seized Brasidas and kept him in place. He steeled himself as best he could.<br/>
<br/>
“Kassandra, I--” He cleared his throat, willing the awkward lump away, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “I’m going to make breakfast. Is there anything you’d like?”<br/>
<br/>
She smiled, soft and slow. Almost dreamy.<br/>
<br/>
“Hm, <em> chaire</em>.” Kassandra closed her eyes once more, nuzzling further into the pillow. “Brasidas.”<br/>
<br/>
She hummed quietly. Then her soft snores were back, synchronized with her gentle breathing. As if she never woke and caught Brasidas watching her sleep in the first place.<br/>
<br/>
Brasidas heard a relieved, amused laugh before he realized it was his. With how quickly she went back under, anyone else would later have a hard time delineating dreams from reality. But Kassandra wasn’t just anyone else. She was an unpredictable, unstoppable force of nature no mortal can ever hope to fully understand.<br/>
<br/>
Lines from sleep criss crossed along her shoulder. Her long hair a halo of brown, tangled mess around her. And, if Brasidas wasn’t mistaken, a little bit of drool escaped her lips to join the already dried streaks across her cheek.<br/>
<br/>
Like this, she was just as human as anyone else.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, Brasidas turned and left his post at the door with his face softened into a smile he didn’t see the point of suppressing. Sparta liked her men strong and hard with no room for weaknesses, but here, in his own home and in the presence of the most beautiful person he’d ever come across, Brasidas allowed himself this one moment to just be.<br/>
<br/>
He wanted to brush her hair from her face, wanted to count her eyelashes, wanted to wipe the stubborn drool from her cheek just to see her scrunch her nose at his touch for disturbing her slumber, but he shook his head.<br/>
<br/>
He’d intruded enough. Now it was time to play the good host and friend and prepare them both the breakfast he promised.<br/>
<br/>
Brasidas truly hoped Kassandra only had good dreams. She deserved nothing less.</p>
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